


By Any Other Name

by Lylanne (orphan_account)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 16:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20567288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Lylanne
Summary: Prompt One: FlowersShort fluff, hint of romance to kick off Sansaery Week





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Sansaery Week! Check out the tag on Tumblr for all the awesome content from the creatives at work for this ship💛

_ Once upon a time, when lovers could speak only in motion, the rose arose from the fledgling earth; enticing in scent and amorous in appearance. Every being agreed upon its meaning: love _ .

...

"Sansa?"

Blush crept to Sansa's cheeks, she had not been listening, and now Margaery sought her thoughts on something.

"What, my Lady?" 

"I asked you what your favorite flower was."

"Rose," Sansa said without filter, disregarding the many implications she'd usually force herself to search for in noble company. 

Margaery smilied, finding flatery where Sansa feared she may find oddity. 

"May I ask why?" She prodded, leaning closer into Sansa as they strolled.

"No," Sansa said sharply, again ignoring the social facade her brain had trained itself to understand.

Margaery repressed her smile, turning to look up into the winding blossom trees that canopied the flower variety, wafting sweet summer air into the sticky heat of the Red Keep.

After sometime of sustained, contemplative silence, Margaery brushed Sansa's hand with her fingertips. Sansa was hyper aware of Margaery's fingers drifting along the back of her hand, light and graceful. She looked up, cheeks warm and exposing her innermost feeling. 

Margaery had stopped walking, so Sansa stopped as well, whipping her head to meet the brown-haired beauty. They had stopped beside a rose bush, the fragrance overwhelming and apparently artiface, but lovely nonetheless. 

"Beautiful," Margaery mused, touching the pale pink petals with astonishing care. She slipped her hand into the mass of blooms and stems, snapping the head of a particularly gorgeous rose, petals extending in an endless pattern of enchantment. She snapped it once more at the stem, removing any thorns attached. 

"It's a lovely rose, Lady Margaery."

"Hmm," she agreed, breathing in the fragrance the rose exuded. She then turned to Sansa, holding the rose beside Sansa's face, the hint of a smile upon her lips, "It compliments you, My Lady." Margaery insisted. She brushed a strand of hair behind Sansa's left ear, securing the rose atop her ear and in the binds of her current hairstyle.

"There," Margaery said, seeming pleased with her work. 

Perhaps it was a only a kind gesture, unknowing and thoughtless, but the warmth of Margaery's hand on her face juxtaposed by the cool flora of the rose left Sansa breathless.

"Thank you," Sansa said, slowly regaining control. Margaery smiled brilliant and radiant, stalling Sansa's recovery from the rose.

Their walk ended shortly thereafter, and only when her back pressed into her closed door did Sansa's head clear itself of desire and bashful daydreams. She retrieved the rose from her hair, brushing the silk petals along the curve of her face, breathing in the sweet scent greedily. She held it to her heart, allowing the most gentle of happiness to flood her. Such light was rare and impossible to come by, Sansa wanted every last drop of it before the bottle shattered and her smiles were once again a fading memory coated in Northern Air and falling snow.


End file.
